


A Hard Time Staying In Orbit

by starhugger



Category: MLAndersen0
Genre: Abuse (Implied), Also for context, And he's Not Doing So Good, Bonding, Brotherly Bonding, But GOODBYE still happened, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, In my defense I'm an introject of Shaun myself, Nothing severely messed up in this one just be warned of a lot of explicit dissociation stuff, Shaun's a system in this, This is an AU where Shaun survives, This is very very very OOC but I'm coping, Trauma, did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhugger/pseuds/starhugger
Summary: He's pretty sure his brother isn't himself, and he wished he knew how to fix it.
Relationships: Shaun and Michael
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	A Hard Time Staying In Orbit

Shaun was, as it turned out, _crying_.

Not just crying, but sobbing, too. He looked like he was trying to play it off as a joke, but Michael knew better. For once, he knew better than Shaun did about the situation, and Shaun was crying.

He'd only come in to talk to him about something- something he'd already dropped once he found Shaun like this. He was standing there, in the front of the living room, shaking and crying. The way he looked around with fearful eyes, as if someone was going to jump out to kill him, terrified the older brother to no end. He didn't know what was going on, but he would never, ever just leave him like this. Especially after what happened with HABIT.

"I'm not- Um- I uh.." Shaun was trying to say. He was struggling for words, his eyes glassy and glazed over, as if he'd been whisked to another planet and had a hard time staying in orbit.

"Shaun?" Michael tried, hoping to try to ground him, or _something_. Anything would work besides sitting here and watching him cry. It took Shaun a long, painful amount of seconds to process his words, and respond.

"Who... who's Shaun?"

"Shaun," Michael started. "You're you. I know things are scary right now-"

"I'm not," Shaun stated clearly, making Michael stop dead in his tracks. "I'm not him. I never was. Stop calling me that. There's too much. Don't call me that..."

Quickly, a new round of tears rendered not-Shaun unable to speak again, doubling over in a fit of sobs.

Michael's heart dropped, and slowly, things started to click into place.

The persistent triggers, the staring off into space for hours, not noticing Michael's own presence, the ignoring when Michael called Shaun's name for his attention, the panic attacks, the mood swings, the drastic shifts in personality and emotions towards his situation... originally, he'd assumed that this all just came from HABIT. That this was PTSD from recent events that he needed to overcome, and he was sure that it was at least _somewhat_ true.

But now, Michael had to wonder if there was more- so much more- that he'd never been told about, and was finally coming back up to the surface. Or maybe Shaun just couldn't keep it hidden anymore, couldn't deny it or hide it, and it'd been there all along, right under his nose. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Are... are you _not_ Shaun?" Michael asked, carefully.

Shaun- or, whoever it was- sniffled, and he cracked a heart-wrenchingly sad smile, with it wobbling on his face and slowly shifting back down into a frown. "N.. no. I don't think-"

He laughed- or, well, sobbed- again, looking away. "Don't t-think I am."  
They clearly shifted, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Their eyes were trailing the room, likely looking for somewhere to be _alone._

Slowly, Michael nodded, watching their every move in case they started panicking even more.

He'd vaguely heard the doctors talk about it in the hospital- they'd even briefly considered diagnosing him with it, thanks to Patrick. He had no idea if that ever went through, or if it was possible for him as well, but maybe it was better to not focus on that right now.

DID, he thought it was called. When someone went through childhood trauma, and ended up splitting into multiple states, to handle different memories and functions. Or something like that.

He didn't know much about it. He was now pretty sure he should start learning.

"Okay," Michael said, as calmly as possible. Slowly approaching, he let his hand ever-so gently hold onto his siblings'. "Do you want to go to your room for a bit? To calm down."

Shaun looked up at him, their eyes little more than huge, watery circles, and after a moment more of hesitation, they nodded.

Michael held their hand fully this time, and his sibling _squeezed_ back, as if letting go would make them fall into oblivion. Carefully, they both headed up the stairs, with the younger stumbling every now and again. They'd seemed to have calmed down enough for being able to move, but not by much.

When they finally reached their bed, they practically fell onto it, still shaking. Michael came up alongside them, properly putting the covers over them. _In the morning,_ he thought, _it would probably be best to talk to them about it._

They'd definitely need help for this. He'd already thought of bringing up the idea of a therapist to Shaun before, but he'd staunchly put it off, saying something along the lines of, _'What, d'you think I can't handle myself? I'm fine, Michael. Therapists are for people with real problems.'_

It was a bit frustrating, if he was being honest with himself. Luckily, he, and especially Patrick, could be even moreso, and eventually Shaun was going to see a goddamn therapist. He couldn't handle a dissociative disorder by himself- even Michael knew that.

With a sinking feeling, he remembered that Shaun likely wouldn't even remember the symptoms, and would have no idea what Michael was even referring to. If Shaun couldn't even admit he was traumatized, despite the clear warning signs, it would take ages for him to accept this, even if a doctor told him so. For a moment it made him angry, then frustrated, before it cooled into a dull, but powerful sadness. He didn't know what caused Shaun to be this way, but whatever it was, it was enough for this to happen, and it really, truly terrified him. His mind drifted to thoughts of his parents, with their all-too-happy smile, their too-harsh of a grip, the strange way they looked at his sibling when they assumed he couldn't see, and he stopped himself before he let himself get too furious. He didn't know what caused Shaun to become like this, but he had a few _ideas_.

His sibling curled up fearfully in the blankets, sniffling and shaking, causing him to snap back to reality. Michael tried to say something to him, but they didn't hear it. He tried to touch them, and they flinched away. He wondered what they were thinking, where they must think they are, or were going through, and the more he thought of it, the more he worried himself. Eventually, he realized he'd have to leave them to rest alone. After turning on the nightlight by the side of the bed, he saw them relax. Once Michael did that, he headed for the door, carefully, in case they asked for him to come back. They didn't.

He stood in the doorway, and turned back to the small form under the blankets.

"Goodnight. I love you." Michael tried.

There was no response.


End file.
